


Changes

by OreoLuvr13



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Barisi - Freeform, Episode: s16e15 Undercover Mother, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secret Relationship, hurt carisi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-11 21:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OreoLuvr13/pseuds/OreoLuvr13
Summary: Up until now, whatever this thing between him and Barba is has been purely physical. Barba made that clear. Who would have thought Declan Murphy pistol whipping him at the Superbowl bust would change that...





	1. Now

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about my other WIP’s. This little idea came to me and I had to get it down before I lost it.

Carisi sighs as he attempts to carefully maneuver himself into a more comfortable position, mindful of his throbbing head. He’s pretty sure that his nose isn’t broken, but that’s little comfort. No matter what position he tries, there’s a steady ache resonating from his nose to the front of his head. The ice and dose of ibuprofen hasn’t done much, only dulled the pain a couple of notches.

Maybe he should try his bed? It’s definitely more comfortable than his couch. He all but collapsed on it when he finally got home a couple of hours ago and that’s where he’s been ever since. Just as he garners enough energy to make his way to his bed, he hears a knock. He looks at his watch. 3:32. Who the hell can that be?

Curious, he takes a look through the peephole. Now he’s really confused. Was the hit to his head, worse than he thought it was? Is he seeing things? Screw it. Throwing caution to the wind, he opens the door.

“Hey…”

“Jesus, Carisi.” Barba winces. “You look like shit.”

Carisi wants to roll his eyes, but his headache stops him from doing so. “Well, counselor, it’s three thirty in the morning. Sorry if I’m not looking my best.”

Barba looks around the deserted hallway. “Can you invite in me because as you have noted it is in the middle of the night. “

Carisi steps to the side and lets the older man in. Once inside, Barba takes off his coat and tosses it on the back of the couch as Carisi sits down. “You didn’t have to come over here. I’m fine.”

Barba moves to the front of the couch and stands in front of the other man. He touches Carisi’s bruise mottled face. “This doesn’t look fine.”

Carisi lets out a hiss when Barba touches a particularly tender spot. 

“Yeah, fine my ass.” Barba quips pulling his hand away.

“Fin said it’s not broken,” Carisi explains as he leans his aching head against the back of the couch.

“I didn’t know Fin was taking up pre-med,” Barba replies. “You guys carpool up to Fordham together?”

Carisi lets out an irritated sigh. He can usually take Barba’s banter. But he just doesn’t have it in him right now. He’s tired and Barba’s smart ass comments are only making his headache worse. “Why are you even here? My head is killing me and I’m too tired to…”

Barba sputters. “What? You think I came here in the middle of the night for a quickie?”

If Carisi didn’t know any better he would have thought that Barba was insulted at what he was implying. Then again, why else would Barba be here? He made it perfectly clear after the first time they slept together and every time after that this thing between them is purely physical and nothing else. A physical release of pent up frustration after a particularly rough case or when life throws a nasty curveball their way. Nothing more. Barba made sure Carisi knew that from the get-go and Carisi forced himself to be okay with that. But deep down, Carisi’s heart didn’t share that sentiment. He still feels the sting when he thinks of Barba’s response after he mentioned grabbing a bite to eat after a rushed, but all so satisfying round.

“What you think we’re boyfriends now? We’re going to hold hands and hit up all the newest foodie hot spots. No. This is still what we said it was when we this first started. Sex. That’s it.”  
And after that, Carisi didn’t say anything of the sort again. They still have sex. Great sex. But, that’s it.

“You do? Don’t you? Jesus, I don’t know if I should be flattered or ashamed,” Barba says. “Fine, I came to make sure that you weren’t passed out from a brain bleed.”

But Carisi isn’t rising to the bait. He’s too tired. He’s hurting too much.

Barba touches Carisi’s bruised face again. This time more gently. “I came by to check on you. Make sure you’re okay. I couldn’t see you when you were in holding and by the time I got done, you were already gone. I came right here from the station.”

Carisi looks over Barba. At his casual clothes. He’s wearing the same clothes that he was when they were all brought into the precinct after the Superbowl party. Barba wasn’t lying. He did come here right from the station.

“You came by to see me?” Carisi asks tiredly. “See how I was doing?”

This time Barba does roll his eyes. “I did. Now be honest with me. How bad is your head? Do I need to take you to the ER?”

Touched by the sincere emotion in the older man’s voice, Sonny cautiously shakes his head. “I think I’m okay. Nothing that some ibuprofen and some ice can’t fix.”

Barba nods. “Okay. Lie down. I’ll back.” Before Sonny could ask where he was going, Barba disappears to his kitchen. 

Carisi lays back against the couch and closes his eyes. He’s finally drifting off to sleep when he feels something cool and soothing on his face. He goes to grab it but his hands are pushed away. “Leave it Carisi. Jesus, you make an awful patient.”

Sighing contently, he doesn’t move when he feels his legs being moved to the side to make room. Or when he feels the couch dip and mutters out something intelligible.

“What was that mumbles?” Barba asks, squeezing Carisi’s leg.

Carisi tries again. This time Barba can make out what he is saying. “Don’t you have to get home?”

“Nah, I can stay. I don’t have anything too pressing tomorrow. I’m thinking that I’ll just live up to that notion that the day after the Superbowl is the most unproductive work day.”

Carisi lets out a tired chuckle but stops when the motion causes a sharp pain to shoot through his head.

“Easy, Carisi.” Barba says as he adjusts the homemade icepack on Carisi’s face. “Liv told you to take tomorrow off?”

“Yeah? Why?” Carisi asks.

“I was thinking that…uh…maybe if you’re feeling up to it, if your head wasn’t too bad, we can maybe grab breakfast tomorrow.”

“Breakfast?” Carisi asks as he sits up, removing his icepack. “You want to go out to breakfast? You serious?”

“No, I just said it for shits and giggles. Yes, I want to go out for breakfast.”

Carisi leans back and places the icepack back on his face. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

Barba squeezes Carisi’s leg again. “Smart ass.” He doesn’t know for sure because Carisi’s arm is blocking his view, but Barba is pretty sure that the detective is smiling. Barba feels a smile of his own tugging at his lips. “Are we going to sit here in the quiet or can we turn the tv on? Can you head handle it?"

“Tv’s fine,” Carisi answers as he relaxes into the couch.

Barba picks up the remote and turns on the tv. “Let’s see what monstrosity you have been binge watching on Netflix.”

As the opening credits of “Brooklynn Castle” begins to roll on the screen, Barba kicks off his shoes and gets more comfortable on the couch. Carisi’s breaths are already deeper, although slightly nasally, signaling that he’s asleep. Barba lifts the now lukewarm, makeshift icepack from the younger’s man face. Testament to how tired he is, Carisi doesn’t stir. Barba can’t help but wince when he looks at the younger  
man’s bruised face. His eye is already a deep purple and his nose is clearly swollen. Jesus. 

Maybe breakfast isn’t such a good idea. Not because he wants to get out of it but because Carisi is really going to be hurting. He glances over at Carisi again and then takes out his phone and starts looking up good breakfast places that deliver. Once he finds a place that got some decent Yelp reviews, he puts his phone away and lays his head back against the couch. Soon, his breaths have slowed and he joins Carisi in sleep.


	2. Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What led to Barba showing up at Carisi's door?

Barba makes his way into SVU. One of the few times he finally takes the advice that he’s been hearing for years from his friends, mother, and most recently Carisi. “You need to get out. Not everything has to be about work” and work beckons. He just came from a pre-Super Bowl party of an old Harvard classmate after getting an urgent call from Liv telling him that he’s needed down at SVU ASAP.

The squad room is packed. No surprise there. It is Super Bowl Sunday after all. He inadvertently looks to Carisi’s desk but sees that it’s empty. He doesn’t think anything of it at first. The detective is probably out on a call but then his eyes drift to the holding cage. And bingo. There he is. What the hell is going on? 

Carisi’s head is lowered so the two don’t make eye contact. But then the detective looks up, Barba can’s help but flinch when he sees Carisi’s injured face when the younger man pulls the sad excuse for an icepack away from his face.

“Barba,” Benson calls out, motioning him to follow her to her office. 

He turns away from Carisi and turns his attention to Liv. He shakes his head when he sees her outfit. The boots. The blouse. Those awful earrings. “Do I want to know why you’re dressed like that?”

“We were undercover at a brothel, and before we could…”

“Who’s we?”

“Me, Fin, Carisi, the whole squad.”

Well that explains why Carisi never responded to his texts earlier that morning. He invited Carisi to come over to his place earlier that day before he was to head over to Melanie’s Annual Pre-Super Bowl bash. Carisi had plans of his own to watch the game with some of his law school buddies. But when he suggested to Carisi to come over, he heard nothing back. Just radio silence on Carisi’s end. 

Barba didn’t think anything of it. Carisi can be hot headed sometimes. Gets upset at things that Barba has no idea why. Still, he feels a little relieved. Carisi didn’t respond to his texts, not because he was pissed at something Barba said or did, but because he was working. 

Working on a bust that Liv didn’t give him any heads up on. 

“The whole squad was undercover at a brothel on Super Bowl Sunday?”

“We don’t need to get your approval. And we made some good arrest, and Martha ID’ed Timmer.”

“Martha was there? I told you she couldn’t be involved.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? That’s it?” Barba sputters.

“Actually, what I was trying to tell you is that before we could rescue Ariel, Declan shows up, deep undercover as a trafficker. And we had to arrest him.”

“Declan Murphy, your former lieutenant? Undercover for whom? Vice?” This just keeps getting better and better.

“I can’t speak to that.”

“See if he can.”

Benson agrees and leaves her office. With Benson gone, he’s already thinking of the damage control he’s going to have to do. Murphy deep undercover. Shit. This is not going to be good.

XXXXX

He has already fielded a couple of phone calls from One PP and the EDA’s office when Liv, Fin, Rollins and Amaro walk back into her office.

“Where’s Murphy now?” Barba asks putting his phone away.

“I just put him back in holding. Keep up appearances.”

“And what’s the plan?” Barba asks. “You guys have one, right? Who knows though since you went into this whole thing half-cocked.”

Benson holds her hands up. “Barba, I’m not going to argue with you. I’m sorry that we didn’t know about Murphy beforehand, but we did make some good busts. We got Timmer.”

“Rollins and I are going to go have a chat with him. See what else he can give us,” Fin says as he turns to Liv. “What do you want to do with Carisi? Murphy got him pretty good.”

“Wait. You’re telling me that Murphy did that?” Barba asks motioning to the holding cell. “So we have one undercover cop assaulting another to keep his cover. This just keeps getting better and better.”

“I say leave him there,” Amaro snickers. “Murphy only pistol whipped him when he got mouthy. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut this wouldn’t have happened.”

Pistol whipped? Jesus, Carisi. 

“You’re blaming Carisi for this?” Rollins says. “Stop being such an ass, Amaro.”

Liv holds her hands up. “Guys, enough. This isn’t getting us anywhere.” She turns to Fin. “You’ve been with him in holding. How is he? Does he need to go to the ER?”

Fin shrugs. “I don’t think so. But I’m no doc. Definitely going to have one hell of a headache.”

Liv nods. “Okay. Carisi stays in holding. Rollins and Fin, you guys talk to Timmer. See what you guys can get outta him. Let’s bring Ariel home.”

XXXXX

Benson exhales tiredly after she hangs up the phone.

“Ariel okay?” Barba asks from his spot on her couch.

“She will be in time. But she’ll have the support and love of her mother. That will be a huge part of her recovery,” Liv says. “You ready to call it a night?”

Out of habit, Barba checks his watch. 2:24. How did it get this late? Barba starts to pack his things up. “Yeah. Come on, I’ll walk you out."

Once out in the bullpen, he notices that it’s nearly deserted. Only a few officers nulling around. And Carisi isn’t one of them. He must have gone home. Good, Carisi should have been home hours ago, if not the Emergency Room. He was able to get a better, closer up view of Carisi’s battered face before the squad headed out to Johnny D’s place and it wasn’t pretty. 

“We’re the last ones, huh?”

Liv nods. “Yeah. I had everyone head home about an hour ago. It’s been a long night.” She lets out a wide yawn. “Sorry, Rafa.”

Barba shakes his head as they make their exit. “Don’t worry. You going to take tomorrow off? You know the day after the Super Bowl is the least productive work day out of the year. At least your excuse has more credence that a simple hangover.”

“Doubt it, I might just take the morning off. You? Who am I fooling? You never take a day off. Your work is your life.”

Barba smirks. “The surprise is on you. I was actually enjoying a social life when you called me in today.”

Liv returns the smile before she lets out another yawn. “Fair enough. All I know is my bed is calling my name.”

“Mine too,” Barba says. 

After he makes a little pit stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it! I'm toying with writing a third chapter that will take place the next morning. Let me know if you guys will like to see it :)


	3. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the Super Bowl bust and Barba's impromptu late night visit to Carisi's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a little late, but it's finally here....the morning after chapter. It's definitely a lot more fluff that I usually write, but I hope you like it!

With a take out bag and two coffees in hand, Barba struggles a bit to open Carisi’s apartment door.  


“Carisi?” Barba calls out once inside the apartment. “You awake? Or did you fall into a coma while I was out because of an undiagnosed brain bleed?”

“In here,” Carisi calls from the couch as Barba makes his way to the living room. Carisi turns to him, bruised face on full display. “What did you get me?”

Carisi’s face still looks awful despite the copious amounts of ice that was applied the day before. His left eye is nearly swollen shut. And the lighter blues and purples that were under his eye yesterday has blossomed into a much darker hue of blue and violet. Not to mention his nose. Carisi’s Staten Island accent is now marred with a slightly nasally undertone.

“You sound like crap,” Barba says, handing the detective a coffee. “And your face looks even worse.”

Carisi waves off the comment. “It’s fine. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Barba says as he takes out their breakfast. “Have you looked into a mirror yet today?”

“Whatever, I had worse.” Carisi replies as he holds out his hands for his food.

Carisi had worse. Jesus.

“I got you Nutella coconut pancakes. Thought it might be something you would like,” Barba says as he hands over the mentioned meal.

“This looks great, Rafi.” Carisi says as he takes a bite of his sweet breakfast, completely unaware of his innocent slip of the tongue. Rafi.

Carisi may be oblivious to what he just said in passing, but Barba isn’t. This is the first time that the detective called Barba,  Rafi. Very few people in Barba’s life uses the affectionate, casual moniker. No, Rafi is only reserved for a select, close few. He didn’t realize that Carisi has graduated to that level. That somewhere, somehow, he went from Barba to Rafael with a few counselors thrown in here and there, to now Rafi.

And even more surprisingly, Rafael’s fine with it.

He doesn’t know when exactly this…thing with Carisi has changed. But it did. He can’t deny it. What has started as quick casual hook ups after a rough case has morphed into something so much more. Before he would look for any way to avoid having to listen to Carisi’s endless ramblings, but lately he finds himself seeking out the talkative detective whenever he walks into SVU. And a part of him has to admit that it bothered him when Carisi never responded to his text yesterday morning asking him to come over.  That the hurt Barba was feeling was quickly replaced with concern when he walked into SVU and saw a bruised Carisi sitting in holding. It took everything in his arsenal to rein in his anger when he heard that it was Murphy who pistol whipped Carisi.  

“Somethin’ the matter?” Carisi asks looking up at him, a glob of Nutella on his lip. “You haven’t touched your food.”

Barba rolls his eyes, trying to make a show that he’s annoyed, when really, he’s not. “Nothing’s wrong. Now move over and wipe that Nutella of your lip. It’s giving me an awful flashback to that moustache you had when you first transferred in.”

Carisi laughs at the jab, but then lets out a moan.

“You okay?” Barba asks in concern.

“I’m okay. Head is just sore,” Carisi mutters as he leans back against the couch.

“You sure you’re okay? You barely touched your food,” Barba says as he takes in the nearly filled plate.

“Sorry, it was really nice of you to get us breakfast. But I’m just not that hungry right now. I know I’m not good company right now. You can leave if you want. I’m sure you have a ton of work to do. Especially, after last night,” Carisi says as he closes his eyes.

Barba frowns. Carisi is clearly not feeling great. Maybe a trip to the ER is in order.

“And no, I don’t need to go to the ER,” Carisi replies before Barba could even ask.

“Okay, then. We’ll just stay here for the day.”

“We will?” Carisi asks, opening his non swollen eye. “Wait...you’re staying?”

Barba nods his head. “I told Liv that I would be working from home. I mean if that’s okay with you… if I stay?”

He knows he sounds like a fool as he hears himself tripping over his words. Man when did he start sounding like a love sick teenager? He’ll die of embarrassment if Rota Calhoun heard him now.

“I’ll like that,” Carisi says, smiling.

XXXXX

Benson looks up when she hears Fin knocking on her door. “What can I do for you, Fin?”

“I’m going to grab some food. While I’m out, I can go over to Barba’s office and give him those files on Timmer and Johnny Drake,” Fin says.

“There’s no rush on bringing those files over,” Benson says leaning back against her chair.

“No?” Fin asks. “You sure? He was all over us last night about them.”

Benson gives him a sly smile. “Yeah, no need to worry about that now. Barba sent me a text this morning. He’s not going to be in today. Said he was going to work from home.”

“Barba’s taking the day off? He never takes time off.”

Liv nods as she looks pass Fin and out to the squad room. To where Carisi’s empty desk is. Fin catches her eye.

“Wait, didn’t you tell Carisi to take the day off?”

She gives her sergeant a small smile.

Fin snorts. “It’s about damn time. Watching the two of them was painful.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Benson says. “The fact that both Barba and Carisi are not in today is purely coincidental.”

“Coincidence my ass,” Fin says as he turns around to leave.

Benson smiles as she takes out her phone. It’s time to mess with Barba a bit. That’s what friends are for.

XXXXX

Barba is sleeping soundly when his cell phone goes off. Her jerks awake when he hears the text. At first, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings, but he soon remembers. He’s at Carisi’s place. In his bedroom. They decided to move from the couch to the bed a couple of hours ago. One night on Carisi’s worn out couch did enough damage to his old back. He looks over and sees that Carisi is still asleep. Good, he probably needs it.

His phone goes off again. Not wanting to disturb the younger man, Barba looks at his phone and sees that he’s gotten several texts while he was napping. The most recent one is from Liv.

_How’s working from home?_

He quickly types out a response before Liv decides to call him.

Fine. Getting a lot done.

_Hope you’re able to take a break from work and enjoy some of your day off._

Take a break from work and enjoy some of your day off? What does she mean by that?

“Hey…” Carisi says groggily. “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting Liv. How you feeling?”

Carisi shrugs as he opens his eyes, or in this case eye because the other one is still pretty swollen. His face is still bruised, but his face doesn’t seem as tense with pain as it did earlier. “What does she want?”

“Nothing, really. She’s just messing with me,” Barba says setting his phone back down on the nightstand.

“Messing with you? How?” Carisi asks curiously. “What’s she saying?”

Barba lays back down and faces Carisi. “Don’t know. She just is.”

“That’s real descriptive there, counselor.” Carisi says as he moves even closer to Barba so that they’re just inches apart.

“Okay smart ass. She’s not saying much, which always makes me nervous. A quiet Liv is never good. It means the wheels are turning.”

Carisi closes his eyes. “You don’t think she knows about us, do you?”

Barba runs a gentle hand over the unbruised part of Carisi’s face. “Nah, I think we’re good.”


End file.
